


To Feel A Little Love

by withmarkers



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withmarkers/pseuds/withmarkers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Niall get stoned. And have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Feel A Little Love

**Author's Note:**

> Because Nick tweeted "i DO love you <3" to Niall, and my brain went "YES DO WANT", and I started texting my friend Caitlyn Nick-and-Niall-get-stoned-and-have-sex fic. The entirety of this was written via bbm and then typed onto my computer. Whoops?
> 
> Thanks to Sam for the britpick! 
> 
> Aaaand title from Ed Sheeran, of course.

Nick looks at him and thinks all _".... Huh. Alright_.” Cause Niall's shirt is open halfway down his chest and he's all flushed and kind of sweaty, hair a fucking mess. It's getting to that point where it's grown out a lot, flashes of brown beneath the bleach-blond, roots that should look ridiculous but they really don't.  
  
And he's not really Nick's type, not that there's anything wrong with him, but Nick likes Harry's... Harry-ness and Tomlinson's sass and Zayn's dry sarcasm. But there's something here, now, dragging his eyes back to Niall like a magnet, to Niall's skinny arms and the flat, pale planes of his chest, and his collarbones - when does Nick even notice _collarbones_ anyway, the fuck?  
  
"Grimmy." Niall drawls, slow and whiskey-rough, and Nick realizes with a tug of vague embarrassment that he's staring, says, "Mmm," with the laziness that only the too-stoned-to-give-a-fuck would understand.  
  
Niall snorts half-heartedly and Nick's eyes land somewhere around the vicinity of his mouth, the glint of braces, the way his reddened lips wrap around his words as he says, "'s good shit, mate." The joint between the index and middle fingers of his left hand teeters precariously but doesn't quite fall, sending a tiny wisp of smoke curling towards the ceiling, and Nick's -  
  
fuck. Nick's hard in his jeans and twenty minutes have passed and he feels like he's not quite keeping up.  
  
"Wanna smoke?"  
  
And really, the only answer to that is yes. Nick accepts the joint, takes a long, deep drag, blinking heavy, and slumps back into the sofa cushions. He thinks he's melting.  
  
Niall chuckles and plucks the joint from his fingers, hauling himself into the space beside Nick. He kicks his legs out, right knee knocking against Nick's thigh. He's a long, warm line along Nick's side.  
  
Fuck. He's so fucking horny right now.  
  
Nick blinks. At least, he thinks he does. But then there's weight spreading across his thighs and upon opening his eyes he discovers Niall.  
  
In his lap.  
  
Well, okay.  
  
His first instinct is to squirm, which, well. He's not really capable at this particular point in time, what with ten stone of teenage  _boy_ sprawled over his legs and all.   
  
His posture's horrendous enough that he has to actually make the effort to look up at Niall, and when he does, he sees Niall's slow, lazy smile, satisfied as can be, red creeping down his neck as he takes one last drag and flicks the end of the joint into the ashtray on Nick's end table.  
  
"So," Niall says, knees tight around Nick's hips.  
  
"So," Nick echoes, because oh my god.  
  
How has this become his life? What the fuck was he even doing, getting high with Niall anyway?  
  
Moot point, Nick decides quickly, or actually Niall's mouth does it for him. His wicked, clever _clever_ mouth. It's sliding hot and wet over Nick's parted lips, and then tickles when Niall hums contentedly.  
  
And oh, god, yes. Nick's body cooperates then, his hands surging up Niall's legs to settle around his hips, pulling him close, close, closer.  
  
Niall kisses like he does everything else. Slow, unhurried. Nick's eyes fall shut again and it's easy to lose himself in it, to open his mouth to the slide of Niall's tongue, to pull and tug and twist at the vest underneath Niall’s shirt until he has Niall's smooth skin beneath his fingertips.  
  
It's addictive, it is, and Nick goes with it because he can't not.  
  
Minutes pass by, or maybe hours. Nick only becomes aware of time passing when Niall tears his mouth away to say, "Shit, fuck", and bloody hell, Nick loves the way he curses.  
  
Niall bites his lip and presses _down_ and jeeeesus fucking christ Nick bloody near whimpers with how good it feels. "Yeah," he says and tightens his grip on Niall's hips to help.  
  
And just like that, it's on. Nick wants to come and he wants it now. He meets Niall's eyes, so blue and blown wide, and Niall stares at him for a long moment. "Y'wanna," Nick starts, and Niall says,  
  
"Yeah, fuck yeah, Nick, please," and wow that's not fair at all. Nick's brain is officially fried.  
  
He yanks Niall forward blindly and kisses him again, groaning into Niall’s mouth as Niall grinds into him again. Nick isn’t sure what it is, but something about this, the weed, _Niall_ , makes his head spin. He gets a head around the back of Niall’s neck, sticky with sweat and fingers tangling in the longer hair there, and arches up when Niall pushes down.   
  
The friction is _fantastic_ , Niall making shuddery, bitten-off noises into Nick’s mouth. Nick grips tighter, kisses harder. He braces his foot on the floor and manages to push himself sideways. Niall doesn’t break away from him, instead falls heavily into Nick’s chest and slots one leg in between his.   
  
Nick needs to breathe, but not badly. He inhales through his nose and slides his hands right under Niall’s arse, searching for more of that friction, and that’s when Niall yanks away, says “ _Fuck_ ”, into Nick’s chin and bites down hard as his hips stutter and then stop.  
  
Jesus, that’s hot.  
  
Nick retaliates by digging his teeth into the underside of Niall’s jaw.”Did you just-”  
  
Niall breathes out a laugh. “Shaddup.”   
  
"Not that this isn't lovely," Nick murmurs into his ear a minute later, the combination of arousal, the weed, and Niall making his mind buzz. Niall lifts his head from Nick's chest to peer at him with glassy eyes.  
  
"Whassat," he mumbles, and it's quite hot actually, Nick has to admit, how quickly his expression morphs into a positively wicked smirk as Nick pointedly shifts his hips up into Niall's stomach.  
  
"Oh," says Niall, and blows out a long breath, furrowing his brow. "So you want me to do somethin’ about that then, yeah?"  
  
"I'm not going to beg, Horan," Nick growls and Niall grins hugely. It's so bright Nick almost can't bear to look at it. Or look away.  
  
It's a confusing combination.  
  
Niall wriggles down and works the button on Nick's jeans and then Nick has to close his eyes because _fuck_. His suspicions of Niall being good with his mouth are confirmed - jesus, really fucking confirmed - once Niall gets his jeans and pants down over his arse and his mouth on Nick's cock and Nick chokes out, " _Niall_ -" before he can stop himself.  
  
Niall pulls off to grin at him (Nick knows this because he can't keep his eyes closed, he seriously can't), and ducks back down.  
  
He's got to have done this before, Nick thinks. There's nothing inexperienced about the way Niall tucks his lips over his teeth and relaxes his throat, the way he listens for Nick's reactions and twists his hand over the base to make up for what he can't reach.  
  
Nick thinks about him doing this with others - probably Malik, or maybe Liam - and feels an immediate mixture of horror, jealousy and arousal. He grits his teeth and focuses on Niall, absently smoothing a hand over his hair. Fuck, Niall is good at this. His eyelashes fan out against his still-red cheeks.  
  
Hot, Nick thinks again, and comes.  
  
Bloody hell.  
  
"Christ." He lets his head drop back, boneless. “You’ve got a mouth on you," he sighs, and Niall shuffles around, standing up and tugging at Nick’s hand.  
  
“Sleep,” he says.  
  
Nick tries to glare up at him. It doesn’t work. “Ngh.”   
  
But Niall looks deliciously dishevelled, and he must know he’s got Nick because he drops his hand, shrugs and says, “More room for me, then,” and proceeds to strip naked and pad in the direction of Nick’s bedroom.  
  
The _fucker_.  
  
Nick follows, but only because he’s not stupid.  
  



End file.
